


blown

by sugarcubeshiro



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Crying During Sex, M/M, POV Shiro (Voltron), Porn with Feelings, it’s probably too tame to be considered ’porn’ buuut since that’s the tag...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-18 18:45:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16522589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarcubeshiro/pseuds/sugarcubeshiro
Summary: “I got you,” Shiro says around a grunt and brings a hand up to hold Keith’s throat, slipping it high enough on his jaw he can trace a thumb beneath Keith’s bottom lip, push the pad of his finger into Keith’s mouth and feel him moan around it. “I gotcha, baby…” he murmurs again—to soothe Keith, yes, but maybe mostly to reassure himself.Shiro has him now.





	blown

Shiro’s known what Keith’s voice sounds like when it’s battle rough and desperate, pleading, for years by now—has learned the gasps and grunts of having him pinned beneath him after slamming Keith into the mat during one of their sparring sessions first-hand.

He used to keep the memory safe of what it’s like to look up at Keith’s smug grin when Keith’s got the upper hand, when he’s sitting with his legs straddled across Shiro’s chest; used to file it away for when Shiro was alone. He’d turn to it in desperate moments, when no matter how much shame crept down Shiro’s neck over what he was doing, it wasn’t enough to stop himself from touching himself while thinking of Keith.

Getting off was hardly ever a main priority in his life during the last couple of years before they came back to Earth, but even so. It's been a long time since Shiro first came with a bitten-off moan, gasping into his own bicep and working his hand quickly around himself to thoughts of having both Keith's body and voice wrecked by Shiro's touch.

Still it’s so different to finally get to punch the noises out of Keith's throat with the roll of his hips instead. When he has Keith sprawled out on the sheets beneath him, with Keith’s long legs locked low around Shiro's waist.

The sweet, “ _Shiro, please—_ ” might be as broken and begging as Shiro has heard it far too many times in situations it still hurts to think about, but now all it does is make the heat pool low in his pelvis and spur on his movements. Here, like this, it only makes Shiro fuck him harder to hear it again and again, as Keith digs his nails into the muscles of Shiro’s shoulders and cries out for him.

“I got you,” Shiro says around a grunt and brings a hand up to hold Keith's throat, slipping it high enough on his jaw he can trace a thumb beneath Keith's bottom lip, push the pad of his finger into Keith's mouth and feel him moan around it. “I gotcha, baby…” he murmurs again—to soothe Keith, yes, but maybe mostly to reassure himself.

Shiro has him now.

He’s not alone, and he never was, because there was always Keith waiting for him—even when it wasn’t the right time yet. Even when Shiro couldn’t love him back the way Keith wanted him to. Even after Shiro started craving his touch but still would've rather died than to admit his shifting feelings for his best friend. Keith stayed with him through all of Shiro’s faltering and fears, saw what they could be long before Shiro looked at Keith with any thoughts of them having  _this_  crossing his mind.

Whatever the world's thrown at them, Keith has kept loving him, kept coming back to him—and maybe the biggest and most surprising miracle of all, Keith  _keeps_  loving him.

Everything they’ve been through, all the ways Keith knows him, and Keith still wants him.

Something too-hard-to-face always clenches Shiro's heart at the thought of it, of being known so completely by someone and still being cared for. Still having them stick around, without demands of change or without them acting like they've been tricked by something they didn't sign up for, once Shiro trusts them enough to be himself.

Keith has only ever wanted to get closer to him the more of himself Shiro has shown—as if Keith really does love him all the more for who Shiro truly is. Instead of Keith drifting further away, just because he got to see the disappointing fragile human hiding beneath Shiro’s carefully crafted exterior.

“I love you,” Keith rasps out in the space between them and slides his hands to hold Shiro's face. Anchoring him, like he knows exactly where Shiro’s thoughts have drifted off to, knows what Shiro needs to hear—god, he always knows what Shiro  _needs—_ before Keith pulls him down to rest their foreheads together.

Keith's mouth parts to let out sweet little panting noises in time with the movements of their bodies, his eyelids heavy and fluttering as he looks up at Shiro. Shiro pulls back again to get a better angle, and Keith bites his bottom lip to hold back a yelp when Shiro fucks into him right where Keith needs him. Still Keith refuses to close his eyes completely, as if the sight of Shiro on top of him is too good for Keith to miss out on—can't be traded for the need to focus on any pleasure or sweet sensations in the world.

_‘I love you.’_

Shiro knows what those three words sound like when Keith’s voice is broken and desperate and hurting, too. Knows it from the first time Keith had told him, but the horrible memory of it only makes it all the more precious to hear it here. Where Shiro can hold him closer, kiss him deeper, press behind Keith’s knee to sink into him further and hear Keith cry out between them, begging for more instead of pleading for his life.

“ _Keith_ ,” Shiro says back with his last bit of coherency. He leans down, kisses him filthy and demanding as their pace picks up, before he gives way for his need and fucks him so hard Keith moves up the mattress with each thrust. Panting as he breaks away from the kiss, Shiro watches with dazed awe as Keith's eyes water—already close to tears from feeling so good before Shiro has even wrapped a hand around him to jerk Keith off in time with his thrusts.

The look on Keith's face and sweet tightness of his body is enough to push Shiro over the edge with a choked out sob of his own, fucking himself through it for as long as he can while Keith moans and thrusts back against him at the feeling of Shiro coming deep inside. Overwhelmed by being able to turn the man he loves—Keith— _Keith—_ who stands so rigid and closed-off around most people, so particular about touch even from the ones he cares for, yet he never shies away from Shiro's greedy hands—into a whimpering mess beneath him.

Keith slides his palms over any part of Shiro’s skin he can reach, with his head thrown back and his throat on display, his legs spread in a shameless invitation only Shiro ever gets to witness.

“Love you—I, ah—I  _love_ you— _Shiro—_ ”

Shiro kisses him again while he touches him, moaning into his mouth when Keith comes between them. He arches against Shiro with a noise like he’s been punched in the gut while still desperately rocking into Shiro’s hand, chasing the feeling for more.

Together they fall, holding tightly onto each other—in the soft light of Shiro’s bedroom and with Keith in his arms, coming down is a crash that’s safe and secure, familiar warmth surrounding them both once they land.

Shiro keeps his weight tucked heavy on top of Keith, hiding his face in the curve of Keith’s neck as he fights back the sudden and embarrassing need to cry. Tears still threaten to well up at the corners of his eyes, because it’s all a little too much to handle how he feels breathless and trembling and panicked from something  _good_  for once.

Shiro stays put there and breathes—breathes and breathes and _breathes_ , trying to fill his lungs with nothing but the scent of Keith—until Keith finally sighs. He gives a little wriggle beneath him, gently shoving at Shiro's shoulder.

With a soft grunt, Shiro steadies himself enough to lift his head and roll over. Keith automatically follows the motion like a magnet, their bodies always seeming to have some strange gravitational pull toward each other. Shiro reaches down with his hand to fumble for Keith’s leg, grabs behind his knee clumsily to pull it up over Shiro’s own thighs. With his breath shuddering out of him, Shiro blinks up at the ceiling, finally coming back to himself more.

“Love you,” Shiro whispers and lets his eyelids flutter shut again as Keith presses his face against Shiro’s throat. He noses up the length of it, peppering little kisses along the way. Shiro cups the back of Keith’s head, strokes his prosthetic thumb over the nape of Keith’s neck, and presses a kiss to his soft black hair.

“Shiro,” Keith says with a smile in his voice and spreads his hand out over Shiro's skin, fitting his fingers in the spaces between Shiro’s ribs. Keith hugs him tightly for a moment before he hums and lets go to stretch his whole body lazily instead, arching into the line of Shiro's side as he does. Once done, Keith settles in against him again—still smiling, content and sleepy when he closes his eyes, like a cat who’s found a perfect spot with sunlight to rest in. “ _Shiro_.”

“…Love you,” Shiro murmurs again as he cards a hand through Keith’s damp bangs, unable to stop himself from repeating the words. He needs to make sure that Keith’s heard him; will say it over and over again if it somehow wasn’t clear, if Keith hasn't understood the depth of it yet. “Love you so much, baby. So, so much.”

Keith hums in agreement and presses a kiss to Shiro’s chest, over the skin where Shiro’s heart beats underneath. Then he snuggles up on top of him, resting wit his ear on the spot he just kissed, while both of their pulses slowly start to come down.

Shiro sighs, bone-deep and pleased, like every ache in his body has loosened up all at once. He closes his eyes around a yawn, shivering at the touch of Keith's fingertips tracing gentle patterns across his skin.

Soon enough they'll have to step out of this room. Shower and get dressed before they head back to where there’s still the aftermath of numerous battles to face. Where the horrors of the Universe are very much real and so many fights are left to be fought. Back out there, everything is as dangerous as it's always been—but for now, Shiro decides, they don’t have a care in the world.

Right now, all he wants to know is  _them_  and rest.

“’m gonna love you forever,” Keith mumbles and sighs deeply before he relaxes, muscles going heavy so quickly Shiro startles a little and looks down when he realizes that Keith's promptly fallen asleep—like that's that.

Blissed out post-orgasm and sleep-stupid from sex, Keith still said it so casually, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Nice weather we had today.

We won the war.

I’m getting pasta for lunch.

I’m yours for the rest of our lives if you’ll have me.

Pressing his nose to Keith’s forehead, the breath shudders out of Shiro again, but the smell of Keith in his bed grounds him. Shiro holds him tighter, with their legs still tangled, the two of them completely wrapped up around each other as Keith sleeps. With his head resting over Shiro’s heart and his hand gently curled up in a loose fist next to his face, Keith looks so young and carefree, like this is the one place where he’s truly safe.

Shiro's heart gives another too-hard squeeze in his chest, and despite the circumstances surrounding them, the things they've seen, what they’ve had to go through to get here— _here_ , when it's just the two of them, Shiro is young and carefree too, in the one place where he's truly safe.

After everything, now he has Keith.

**Author's Note:**

> ...first published fic for my two absolute faves, ah.
> 
> i'm sugarcubeshiro @ tumblr and twitter too if you wanna come talk sheith to me!


End file.
